Howard Link's Notebook
by RoyxRizaFan
Summary: Sometimes, Allen can't help but wonder what Howard Link writes in that notebook of his, let alone what goes through is head while he completes his job of inspecting Allen. A oneshot focused on the amusing and unique relationship between Allen and Link.


Allen Walker was sitting perfectly still on the edge of his bed, completely idle as he stared at the man, who was seated behind a desk, on the other side of the room. Every now and then, Howard Link would twist around in his chair, scan Allen up and down, nod to himself, and scribble something else down on his paper.

When this had first begun, Allen had been reading a book. Once several minutes had passed, he found himself paying more attention to the Inspector than the words on the page and had cast it aside, wondering if Link would continue to write, even when Allen wasn't doing anything.

Almost as if he was stuck repeating the same moment in time, Link continued to turn around, examine Allen, and add something to his notes. Many times, Allen had tried to take a peek into the notebook, and each time, Link would slam it shut immediately, claiming it was "Confidential."

"You know," Allen began suddenly, "I don't exactly see what's so fascinating about me."

Link didn't respond. He merely glanced over at Allen, and scrawled something on his paper.

Allen frowned. Sometimes, Link could be really…_strange_. He couldn't think of a better word for it. It was during moments like these that Allen longed to have his own room again.

It wasn't that Allen was antisocial. When most people would dread being followed, Allen hadn't been too reluctant to the arrangement. Of course, Link's talents in the kitchen were a part of that. On the other hand, Allen always enjoyed company. As long as whomever he was with was on the same side as him, he was more than happy to be their friend.

As Link cast yet _another _glance in Allen's direction, causing the teen to squirm uncomfortably in his seat, he couldn't help but wonder if Link's superior's side _was _the same as Allen's.

"Why don't you take a break from your notes?" Allen suggested in as sweet of a tone as he could. "You've been at that all day."

"It is called a _job _for a reason," Link reminded him, turning his full attention back to his notebook.

Allen frowned. "Your job is to creep me out?"

Link didn't bother to turn around as he responded. "What is so strange about what I am doing?"

Allen cringed. "You keep _staring _at me. It makes me wonder if I'm doing something wrong, or if my hair is sticking up or something."

"Your hair is fine," Link assured him in his calm, professional tone, "but your tie _is _crooked. You really _must _take more care of yourself, Walker. I put a lot of time into ironing your clothing."

That was another plus to Allen's new companion. For reasons unknown, he took pleasure in doing things like ironing Allen's clothes, arranging his socks, and any other chores that came up. And he baked. We can't forget that.

Allen, feeling slightly guilty, set to straightening his tie. "Is that all you've been writing about? My tie?"

"I hardly see your _tie _as being relevant to my observations," Link retorted.

"It _seems _like that's the only kind of thing you think about."

"Your clothing?"

"Keeping things in order, I mean."

Link thought for a moment before admitting, "I _have _commented on your sloppiness of dress in the past, but now that I am here to assist you in arranging your attire, the improvement has been drastic."

Allen thought back to before he had met Link, wondering if he really _had _been sloppy, or if Link was exaggerating, as usual. "You're lucky you were assigned to _me_. If you were working with Lavi or Kanda, they probably wouldn't listen to anything you said."

"I am working with you because you have been accused of heretical activity," Link reminded him in a dry, direct tone.

Allen moved for the first time in nearly a half an hour, falling back onto his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, where Timcampy was floating in circles, for the lack of anything better to do. "Do _you _think I'm a heretic, Link?"

The Inspector was silent while he considered what the most appropriate answer would be. "Well, according to the evidence placed before us-"

Allen shook his head, even though the Inspector couldn't see. "I don't mean what the _records _say. I mean the conclusion you've come to." Allen sat up, glancing at the notebook, which Link's body nearly concealed from his view. "What _have _you decided? Do you write in there that I'm a regular, decent guy, or that I mutter heretical chants under my breath while I sleep?"

"I write the truth," Link answered simply.

"Is the truth that I mutter heretical chants in my sleep?"

"No," Link answered, "Not yet, at least," he added hastily. "You _do _talk in your sleep sometimes, Walker."

"Is that why you throw your pillow at me?"

"I have never done anything of the sort."

"You were probably too tired to realize what you were doing."

"You're lying, Walker. You're acting very immature."

Allen rolled his eyes, laughing it off. "So, what _do _I say in my sleep?"

Link leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment before responding. "Most of the time, you're begging your Master to put his hammer down, or something along those lines. It can get quite upsetting at times, I must admit. It makes me wonder how someone like General Cross is allowed into the Black Order."

"What else?" Allen pressed him.

"Usually something concerning _food_," Link answered, "though I haven't the slightest idea how someone can think about eating so much, they even dream about it in their sleep."

Allen frowned. "Why, Link? What do _you_ dream about?"

Link was quick to make a denial. "I don't have dreams."

"_Everyone _has dreams, Link!" Allen argued. "Are you embarrassed? Now I'm even more curious! You're such a light sleeper, that I'm sure you dream pretty much every night."

"I don't sleep as much as I should," Link responded, a cold edge to his voice, "Because a certain _someone _cries out about cake and other sugared foods all through the night!"

"You don't dream about _work_, do you?" Allen continued to push on. "You've got to have _something _else on your mind than that notebook." The moment Allen said the words, he wondered if they were actually true. He didn't know what Link wrote in there, and he didn't know what Link's past had been like, either. Backtracking, he reworded his question. "Do you have any _actual _dreams, Link? Like, for the future?"

Link's answer was finally straightforward. "I wish to see – and to help bring about – a world that is void of the Earl and any of his akuma. And heresy."

"Can't forget the heresy," Allen mumbled in agreement, letting out a tired sigh. "Mine's pretty much the same. But have you ever thought about _after _the war, Link?"

"There may not _be _an 'after the war' for all of us, Walker," Link reminded the young exorcist.

Allen cringed. He didn't like Link's pessimistic view on the subject. He tried to never consider that such a thing was possible. Some people could claim he was ignorant or naïve, but those kinds of thoughts only distracted him. If Allen couldn't believe he could protect his friends and comrades, he wouldn't be able to face this war. "If you don't think about what you want after the war, you won't have a reason to fight your way through it. I think planning out a dream for the future can keep you motivated."

Link turned around in his seat, addressing Allen in a challenging tone. "Well, then? Do _you _have one, Walker?"

"Not yet," Allen admitted. "I was waiting to hear yours. It might give me an idea."

Link shot Allen an annoyed glance, turning back to his work before admitting, "I haven't given much thought to it. I've been a Crow almost as far back as I can remember. I haven't really _known_ anything else."

Allen tried to keep his curious tone as polite as possible as he asked, "Do you have any friends or family outside of the Order, Link?"

"I wouldn't know. Even if I did, it doesn't exactly matter at this point, does it?"

Allen didn't have anything outside of the Order, either, now that he thought about it. The other exorcists and all the people he worked with were all the family and friends he had, now that Mana was gone. He let out a long sigh, racking his mind for something to say. He wasn't going to let this conversation end on such a depressing note.

"I guess that means all anyone at the Order has are each other," he continued on, his tone thoughtful but serious. "I guess that's something to fight for. A time when we can live together without having to worry about losing one another in the next second. A time when we can walk the streets, and laugh together, without constantly glancing over our shoulders." He turned his attention back to Link, adding, "Maybe you and I can be friends, without all this weird _inspecting _stuff included."

"In other words, I won't be obliged to bake for you? You'll pay for whatever I prepare?"

Allen scrunched his nose in disapproval. "Wrong! If we're friends, that means you have to bake even _more _for me, and all for free."

"It seems like you're just taking advantage of me," Link returned in an irritated tone.

"It means I like your baking," Allen translated, a smile forming on his lips. "Take a compliment, Link."

"This compliment seems like it's going to cost me."

Allen was immediately distracted by the direction the conversation was headed in. "All this talk about food has gotten me hungry. Want to go downstairs?"

Link let out a sigh, placing his pen down on the desk. "I suppose I don't have a choice, do I?"

Allen leapt up eagerly; pulling on his shoes and gave Timcampy's tail a tug, alerting him to their departure. Link stood up from his desk for the first time in hours, stepping towards the door.

As Allen made his way across the room, he had the urge to peer at Link's unguarded notebook, but resisted it, forcing himself to step out into the hallway without so much as a glance in its direction. Link, who had been watching closely to see if he would look into his notebook, stepped out after him, shutting the door behind them.

"Just for the record," Link suddenly started, "I have no evidence to believe that you are a heretic." Allen turned around, his large eyes filled with surprise. Just as he began to open his mouth and respond, Link hastily added, "Not _yet_, that is."

Allen's mouth closed for a moment, and a smile spread across his face. He turned back around, heading off down the hall. "I'll make sure not to give you a reason to change your mind," he promised.

And with that, the two teenagers headed downstairs to enjoy their dinner.


End file.
